Remember 

I was a kid 

Or a lake or a myth

Flowing through 

Bear Creek 

My being passing around 

Rocks 

Leaving salty tops 

of residue

Don’t you understand 

Tread with caution

You’ve stepped 

All over my creation 

Swam in my organs 

My precious accessibility 

Means nothing

To you 

I can pack 

Up my trees, stones, &

Mountains

& take them to the clouds-

  To the sun-

Home

    This area could turn 

Flat 

& 

All that will be left 

Is a 

False memory